


"90" - Oneshot

by WritingWithADinosaur



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingWithADinosaur/pseuds/WritingWithADinosaur
Summary: While out on a lunch break with your boss, you find out that your brother is back in town. Unsure of what to do, Gil tries to give some advice.
Relationships: Brother!Malcolm Bright x reader, Gil Arroyo & Reader, Malcolm Bright x Sibling!Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	"90" - Oneshot

**Author's Note:**

> Plantonic!Gil Arroyo x Reader
> 
> (Mentioned) Sibling!Malcolm Bright x Sibling!Reader
> 
> Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color  
> Chunks or lines of text that are in italics means that it's (Y/N)’s thoughts.
> 
> Author’s Note: So I had an idea while at work because I find myself thinking a lot about crime shows at work. The line that Gil says “Should have said 90. 100 I know you’re lying” really stuck with me for some reason. So I thought, what if he was told that by Malcolm’s sister, only to use it on him later? And boom, here we are.
> 
> It’s not my best, but I thought it was a cute oneshot ramble thing. 
> 
> This takes place right before season 1 episode 1. 
> 
> This was not beta-read, so please let me know if there are any errors! 
> 
> If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
> 
> <3
> 
> \- DreaSaurusREX

Thanks to your father messing your family up from a young age, abnormal and criminal psychology seemed to be a “natural” path for you and your brother to end up going down. Words cannot describe the negative effect that Dr. Martin Whitly had and _continues_ to have on your life. Growing up and really realizing the awful things he did to those women, your brother, and you made you see the world for what it truly is: Chaotic, painful, and full of surprises (both good and bad.) You saw that there were more monsters like him out there and you wanted to figure out _who_ and where they were. 

While Malcolm went on to change his last name and run off to Quantico to try to help catch more of these deranged killers, you changed your last name and stayed closer to home. If there was one monster living in your own home, they really could be anywhere. 

Gil Arroyo was the officer that caught your father and helped make sure that your family was alright after The Surgeon was put away in Claremont Psychiatric. He helped you and Malcolm bond and grow as much as you could. While you did drift away from the rest of your family, you kept in contact with Malcolm and Gil.

As soon as you graduated college and walked into his office asking to be on his team, Gil knew he had to say yes. Not only to make sure you were safe but also because he knew you had the ability to help get into a mindset that could help the team solve some of these trickier cases. 

Which leads to today, a normal lunch break. 

You and Gil went to a sub shop not too far from the station and got your usuals from Mr.Santos. While waiting, Gil was slightly shifting his feet, slightly visibly unsettled by something on his mind. You made your way to a table off to the side of the room and motioned for him to sit across from you.

“Go on and tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever's got your headspace all worked up.” Gil looked down and sighed out a slight laugh.

“What gave it away this time?”

“Do you really want to know?” Gil shrugged his shoulders and leaned back, trying to feign being comfortable even though he knew he was going to have to speak his mind sooner or later. You leaned forward, elbows on the table, slightly squinting your eyes, preparing for the rare chance to put _the_ Gil Arroyo in his place.

“Well, for one, you haven’t been able to make eye contact or even look at me since we left the station. You’ve also had your arms crossed more than usual, which _could_ be an attempt to make a physical barrier to whatever is creeping its way out of your mental barriers. Your jaw has been clenched for at least the last fifteen minutes, which means you’re at least slightly stressed about something. Do you want me to keep ripping you a new one, _or_ do you want to just tell me what’s going on?”

Gil looked down to see that his arms were indeed crossed over his chest, he let out another sighed laugh, shook his head slightly, and dropped his arms. He took a deep breath.

“Malcolm is coming home.” Gill didn’t look up until after he spoke, trying to gauge your reaction. 

When Malcolm applied for Quantico, you were happy for him. That same day, you found out that he had been meeting with Dr.Whitly. You had made a choice to try to stay as distant from his as possible, and yet, Malcolm was visiting as if he wasn’t locked in there for _murder_. You didn’t even hear him out, you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone wanting to visit that creature.

It drove a spike between your relationship with your brother. You knew that you two would mend it and make up eventually. But you didn’t expect to have to talk to him so soon. 

One of the downsides to growing up like how you did _and_ knowing so much about psychology now, you knew how to hide your emotions fairly well. Some would call it a blessing, especially working with the NYPD as a psychological analyst assistant. But right now, Gil hated it. 

“(Y/N)? You still with me?” Gil tapped your hand to try to get you to focus on the real conversation as opposed to your inner monologue. You shook your head and tried to put on a small smile.

“Yeah. I’m here. I’m fine.”

“Now I _know_ that’s a lie.” 

“Oh really? And _how_ do you know that?”

“Your real smile reaches your eyes. This one,” Gil pointed to your face, “is as fake as Pamela Anderson’s boobs.” A small chuckle left you at his choice of comparison. Gil now matched you and leaned on his elbows on the table. “Talk to me, kiddo. What’s going on in that big ole brain of yours?”

Leaning back, you started to play with your fingers as you tried to settle on a single question out of the handful that were swimming around your mind to ask right now.

“Do you know _why_ he’s coming back?”

“From what I know, he got fired. Assaulted an officer.” 

“Must have deserved it.”

“Which one? Him or the officer”

“Honestly, either one.” Gil slightly chuckled, knowing your brother as long as he has, he could definitely see the punch landing either way.

“Well, I don’t know. _But_... you can ask him that yourself.” You raised a questioning brow at Gil as he paused, trying to choose his phrasing. “I think it would be good for you two to talk. Go get coffee, take a walk, _something_.”

“ _Really?_ You think it would be a _good_ idea to reopen that broken door labeled ‘Warning! Malcolm Bright! Do _not_ open?’”

“100%” Gil tried to smile, but similar to how he pointed out on you moments ago, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

Mr.Santos came to your table with your sandwiches wrapped up and some chips. The two of you thanked him before getting ready to head back to the station to eat. As you got back out to the sidewalk and fell in step with him, you spoke about the case that you were both working now. It wasn’t until you got back to the station that you spoke about what was bothering you.

“You should know better than to lie to me, Gil.”

“And what am I being accused of lying about now?” He couldn’t help but sound a bit annoyed as he opened the door to the conference room where you had all of your notes and evidence board set up. The two of you setting up lunch as you continue.

“When you were saying that it would be good for me to try to meet up with Malcolm, I asked if you were sure, and you said ‘100%.’” 

“And?” Gil asked, mouth half full of chips. 

“You should have said 90.” Gil looked at you, waiting to hear your reasoning. “100 I _know_ you’re lying.” 

“You _know_ I’m lying by me saying 100%?”

“There are _very_ few things that we can say we know with 100% certainty. You of all people question the certainty of things. And with the subject being Malcolm, then there is no knowing how us trying to reconnect could go. And you know that. So--” 

“I just think that you could help him out.” Gil interrupted, not wanting to hear your whole dissertation on probability and chance. 

“So could you. You’re basically a father figure to us, albeit thanks to unfortunate circumstances.” 

“Yeah, but he knows that I usually bring cases, not social visits.” A slight sigh exhaled through your nose, knowing that he was at least partially right. “And I know damn well that he would like to see his sister.” Gil pointed his sandwich at you before taking a bite.

“That's the great thing about him having _two_ sisters though. He can go talk to Ainsley. Although, I know she _is_ like mother in the way that they are dreadfully draining to talk to.” Gil put his sandwich down, looking down at the table and taking another deep breath. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”

The only response you got from him was a hand pointing towards the evidence board. You looked at the board, trying to see if he was pointing to something specific. When you couldn’t make anything out, you looked back to meet Gil with a questioning look.

“I think having _two_ profiler brains on this killer could be helpful.” You took a deep breath in through your nose as you leaned back in your chair, looking up at the ceiling slightly, everything clicking into place. 

“ _I_ see. You want us to make up so we’ll play nice when you eventually wave a case file in his face and drag him to the next crime scene.” You looked at Gil and saw him holding his hands out getting slightly defensive. 

“That’s not the _only_ reason. I know you two are some of the best profilers in New York. You are also the only ones that can truly understand and help each other thanks to your... _life experiences_. So in order to try to help catch bad guys like how _we_ want to, _and_ help you two finally get the relationship back to where _you_ want to, yes, I want you to make up and _play nice_.” 

You knew he was right and that this would be a smart move. You reach for your drink and take a sip. Your lack of response let Gil know that he had “won.”  
“Plus, he feels bad for how things left off before he moved.”

The next few minutes were silent as the two of you finished your lunches. Gil got up to throw away your wrappers and such. As you thanked him, you turned to the evidence board and sipped on the last of your drink.

You tried to find more correlations or similarities between these victims, but you kept thinking of the same ones you already had written down. As much as you loved your team, they weren’t trained much when it comes to the thoughts and motives of a killer. 

You haven’t been able to have a psychologically focused and interesting conversation with anyone since Malcolm left for Quantico. He was always one of a select few that didn’t completely drain your social battery and understood how far to push you to challenge you without causing any damage. Malcolm understood your humor, your ups and downs, and how to really help you. And you understood the same thing for him.

You missed that. 

Maybe a mind like his _would_ be refreshing and helpful nowadays. 

JT knocked on the door’s threshold before poking his head in, phone in hand. You swiveled your chair around, knowing what he was going to say.

“Uni’s called in from east side of 42nd. Something weird. All I could make out was ‘blood paint’ and ‘skin mural’ before they begged for backup.”

“Sounds like something right up your alley, (Y/N).” Gil turned to you. You nodded and started to stand up, gathering the last of your trash and tossing it in the can. 

You stopped before leaving the room. Looking down at the piles of case notes along the table, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty about not finding this guy yet. All of these victims with _no_ answers yet. Gil noticed and put a hand on your shoulder. Before he could say anything, you spoke.

“I’ll try and reach out to him. I can’t let this guy walk around doing this shit again and again. I need a brain like Malcolm’s to jump off of.” Gil just squeezed your shoulder before moving his hand gently to the scruff of your neck, ushering you towards the door so you could get to the crime scene. “I’ll see if he wants to go to that nice place off 16th. But I can’t promise anything.”

You stopped again before getting into the front seat of Gil’s car. Looking at him over the roof, you were a bit nervous now about meeting up with your brother. 

“Are you _sure_ he actually wants to try to make up?”

Gil nodded his head side to side with a slight frown, as if he was weighing options in his head. 

“I would say 85, maybe 90%.” You rolled your eyes at him. “ _Hey!_ I’m learning from you! I’ll have to use that line next time someone says 100.” 

Gil smiled as he leaned down into the driver's seat, you followed and soon you were on your way to catch another monster.


End file.
